So when he came home and they sat down for another of Mrs McCann’s lovely meals, she decided to try to be a little more formal. He asked her about her day and she said she had a case to discuss with him.
‘I went to see a woman called Debbie Laws, who’s about thirty-two weeks pregnant. I think I’m going to have problems. She’s a primigravida and her husband is insisting that she has the baby at home. Also there’s a bit of a history of asthma.’
‘A home birth is not a good idea when you’re at least an hour from the midwife and there’s the risk of asthma. And I’ve heard of her husband—it’s Freddie, isn’t it? A man who likes his own opinions.’
‘True. If Debbie can’t get to the clinic, I shall be visiting her at least every fortnight from now on, and I’ll try to convince her. But there’s something else. There’s a boy there, Albert, a child of Freddie’s previous marriage. Aged about seven. Debbie says he’s getting more and more tired, sleeps a lot of the time, has been doing so for some weeks. And I just wondered if there might be something a bit serious there. I know children of that age tend to be moody but…’
Ben was obviously interested. ‘Anything specific you had in mind?’
‘He had difficulty in finding my hand when I held it out to him. Very poor depth perception.’
Now Ben was obviously concerned. ‘So you think… a brain problem?’
‘I don’t think a scan would be a bad idea,’ Alice said. ‘Of course, I could be completely wrong. I hope I am.’ She knew the dangers of making a fast diagnosis when you didn’t have all of the facts.
Ben pondered. ‘Like I said, I’ve heard of Freddie Laws. He’s got some peculiar ideas. He thinks he’s getting near to nature, living up here. Well, he’ll have to learn that nature can be harsh and cruel. He thinks that because of the internet, people will just stop working in London and will settle where they like, live how they like. Well, some will, but…’
He reached for his diary, leafed through it. ‘It looks like being a bright day tomorrow—how do you fancy a trip out into the countryside as soon as we’ve finished work? We could drop in and see Albert—nothing official, just in the neighbourhood…’
‘I’ve got some new pamphlets I need to send to Debbie. It’ll be an excuse to deliver them in person.’
‘Good. If I think Albert needs attention, we lean on Freddie. Two can lean harder than one. But gently, of course. So that Freddie thinks that whatever we decide is his idea.’
Alice laughed. ‘Do you know how much you’ve changed? You used to be a bright lad who thought that if the islanders didn’t fall into line, they should be just told what to do. Told by you, the medical expert.’
He laughed himself. ‘I’ve grown older and I’ve learned. I’m happy in my work and I like the people I work with. After all, I’m one of them. As you are. There’s a bond between us. We’re both islanders.’
‘A bond between us.’ She repeated his words because she rather liked them. ‘So you don’t regret moving back here?’
‘Never. I could have earned a lot of money in Edinburgh, but I’d have had no time to spend it and no pleasure in spending it. And I always intended to come back here, you know that. And now you’re here, too. Why did you come back?’
Perhaps she was a little more tired than she realised. After all, today had been her first day of real work. So when he casually asked her why she had come back to Soalay, she decided to tell him. Tell him the full story.
‘I had loved the work for fifteen years but I suddenly felt that I had to get away from a prestigious London hospital and the staff’s cut-throat attitude to promotion. And, of course, I was eased out of my job.’
He had always been a good listener. He leaned over to refill her glass and said, ‘Eased out of your job? That seems a bit of a pity. Seems unlikely, too. What happened?’
For some reason, now she’d decided to tell Ben her story, she felt quite comfortable about it. He was a good listener. So… ‘I was a high-flyer too. I was running my own department, about to be made Nursing Head of a new centre for both midwifery and child care. Two departments were about to be amalgamated.’
She needed to steady herself a little and took a gulp of her wine. ‘Anyway, I had a fiancé, Dr Sean Evans, a paediatric registrar. He worked in my hospital, in my department. I said fiancé but he never really asked me to marry him. We lived together. I just thought we’d get round to it in time. I thought I loved him, and because of that I suppose I overlooked what now seem to be his obvious faults.’
‘He was the father of the child you didn’t have? Your miscarriage?’
‘He was. He seemed to take the miscarriage well, didn’t show many signs of grief. At the time I thought he was being strong for both of us. Later I decided…he was relieved.’
Alice made herself lie back in her chair and relax, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. Ben caught her mood, realised she didn’t want him to speak.
‘Sean was very good-looking, apparently good at his job and I was besotted with him. And both of us were very busy. Perhaps that was why I never really discovered what he was like. Anyway…I was working on a children’s ward, he was there with me. A child had an epileptic fit. There was a new drug that had just come onstream. Sean said we’d try it, sent me for it then held the child and told me to inject fifty mil of it. And I did. As I said, we were very busy so I did as I was told, which meant I didn’t follow protocol and enter the dose in the child’s notes. Sean said he’d do it.’
This was the hard bit. Alice realised she had leaned forward in her chair, was gripping the arms so tightly that her fingers were white. But she saw Ben’s face, his expression calm and yet sympathetic—and it gave her strength. She leaned back again.
‘The child calmed at once and Sean left the ward. Five minutes later the child was having much worse convulsions—so bad that I didn’t call Sean, I sent for the consultant. He was horrified.’
Somehow she had to calm herself. But the tears ran unchecked down her face. ‘The child was brain-damaged and the parents sued the hospital. It was the drug that was the problem—I should have injected ten mil, not fifty. Sean swore that he had told me ten mil. And when we looked at the notes that he had filled in, it did say ten mil. He had filled in the notes while I was still on the ward! Protecting himself!
‘And, Ben, sometimes at night I dream of that poor little child. I remember the convulsions and I wake up feeling guilty. I should have checked the dose! It was my job, not Sean’s.’
‘No, it wasn’t your job and you know that! Alice, you did nothing wrong!’
Now, as always, she was angry. ‘He appeared sympathetic. But he told everyone that he knew I was overtired, said he knew I had been suffering because of the miscarriage, he had been worried about my behaviour for a while. I had just made a mistake and part of the blame was his because he should have acted on this. I said I hadn’t made a mistake. But who do you believe—a concerned senior doctor or an overtired nurse? I was known to be good but he was senior. Nurses can make mistakes, registrars do not. There was an inquiry and I was found to have been at fault. I was told quietly not to make too much of a fuss, it could only do my career harm. I was reprimanded, he was let off. I had trusted him, both as a medical colleague and as my lover. So much for trust! I felt betrayed, both by the hospital system and by Sean. And one poor little mite was brain-damaged. Can you imagine what it feels like to be blamed for that?’
And then, as it always did, the anger passed. All that was left was deep sadness. ‘The parents were very good. They sued but they weren’t angry at me. And they said that Sean had been a great comfort to them. Sean, a comfort! That did hurt.’
Her story was more or less over and she fell silent. After a while, Ben asked, ‘So you came to Scotland looking for a sanctuary?’
‘Yes. Just for a year. I did have one friend, a consultant who believed in me. He told me that there was nothing that could be done now, to go away for a year and there would be a job waiting for me
when I came back. I’m looking forward to that.’
‘Soalay will heal you,’ Ben said. ‘When I saw you first, on the ferry, you looked…wounded. And wary. As if you could trust nobody.’
‘I was wary and I still am. I needed a haven, somewhere where I could work in peace—and where I wouldn’t be bothered by men. I don’t trust love any more.’
‘I know that feeling. But do you think it’s possible you’ve found your haven in Soalay?’
‘It’s not impossible,’ she said after a few minutes’ thought. ‘I’ve been very happy since I got here.’
The thought flicked across her consciousness and it almost surprised her. She had been very happy since she’d got to Soalay—and it was due in large part to her spending so much time with Ben. She enjoyed his company so much. And—the realisation took her breath away—it wasn’t the memories of fifteen years before. She enjoyed the company of the new Ben, the mature man. A man any girl would be happy to fall in love with.
They were in luck when they arrived at the Lawses’ cottage. Freddie had gone for a walk—apparently he had some accounting problems and hoped that the sea air might help him find a solution. Alice gave Debbie the pamphlets she had promised her and then said, ‘This is Dr Cavendish. Since we were in the area together, I thought it might be a good idea if the doctor took a quick look at Albert. He seemed a bit peaky when I saw him last.’
She saw Ben wince at the word ‘peaky’—but she knew that Debbie would react to it.
Debbie looked doubtful. ‘Didn’t we ought to wait for Freddie to come back? He is the boy’s father and he—’
‘I agree, it would be nice if Freddie was here,’ Ben said smoothly. ‘But I’m afraid we haven’t much time. Of course, you are Albert’s mother now and as such fully entitled to give your permission to have him examined. You won’t want to wait for Freddie’s permission when your new baby comes along and you want him examined? Will you?’
‘It would be awful if it turned out later that something was wrong with Albert and you hadn’t done anything about it,’ Alice put in.
Debbie sighed, realising that she was being manipulated, but she didn’t really seem to mind. ‘If you’ll explain all that to Freddie when he gets back,’ she said. ‘Come on up. Albert is lying on his bed.’
Debbie sat there as Alice helped Ben with his first examination—the usual BP, pulse, heart rate and so on. And as they examined him they talked to Albert. It was important that they get some idea of how he felt, what interested him. Albert felt tired. He wasn’t interested in anything very much.
Alice noticed that Ben paid particular attention to Albert’s eyes. He also handed him things from time to time—and asked Albert to stretch out and pick up one of the models sitting on his bedside cabinet. Albert often missed.
‘What’s happening here? I didn’t give you permission to examine my son!’
No one had heard Freddie return from his walk. Now here he was in the doorway of Albert’s bedroom. And he was enraged!
‘If he’s ill, perhaps he needs to see the doctor. It can’t really hurt him,’ Debbie tried, but Freddie wasn’t going to pay too much attention to his wife.
‘Doctor whatever your name is! Please leave my son alone and come downstairs and explain yourself.’
‘Of course,’ said Ben. ‘And my name is Dr Cavendish.’
He smiled down at Albert, said, ‘That wasn’t too bad, was it? Now Nurse Muir here will give you a badge you can pin on your T-shirt and I’ll go downstairs and chat to your father. You get some more rest.’ Alice noticed that Ben carefully closed the bedroom door after they had all left.
The four adults trooped downstairs. ‘I thought that yesterday I made it quite clear to the midwife here that there is nothing wrong with Albert. She is in our home as a midwife, that is all. I am not interested in her opinions on the health of my son.’ Obviously Freddie was not going to be placated easily.
‘Miss Muir is an experienced registered children’s nurse as well as a midwife,’ Ben said, ‘and you may shortly have to thank her for her skills. She spotted something that needs to be investigated. That child should have received medical attention long before today.’
Alice hid a smile as she remembered the decision made the night before. If necessary, they would lean on Freddie—but lean gently so that he thought that whatever was decided was his idea. If this was Ben’s idea of gentle…
But… ‘And what does the experienced children’s nurse think is wrong with Albert?’ Freddie was being sarcastic.
‘The experienced children’s nurse thinks the same as I do. First, we desperately hope that nothing is seriously wrong. And that could be true. But, secondly, we think that there is the possibility of some malfunction of the brain. And that needs to be investigated.’
‘Rubbish,’ said Freddie. Alice thought that there wasn’t the same certainty as there had been. But then Freddie thought of another tack. ‘Anyway, if Albert is to be seen by a doctor, I’d prefer to have him seen privately.’
‘That is, of course, your right. But I shall expect a letter from an accredited medical professional in the next three or four days, stating that Albert is receiving attention, otherwise I shall have no alternative but to inform the police that I believe Albert is being abused.’
‘Abused! What are you talking about?’ Freddie’s disbelief, his horror were all too obvious.
‘Any child who is denied necessary medical attention is being abused. Mr Laws, please don’t think I’m joking. We take child abuse very seriously up here.’
Alice had never seen a man deflate so quickly. There was silence in the room for a while, and then Freddie said, in a much quieter voice, ‘What do you think is necessary?’
‘Albert needs to be seen by a consultant paediatric neurologist. He’ll have to be tested—CT and MRI scans will be only the beginning. As I said, there may be nothing amiss. But if there is, action is needed at once.’
‘What’s the next step?’
‘I think that speed is of the essence now. If you want me to handle it, I’ll phone the mainland hospital tomorrow. Albert could be being examined a couple of days after that. Someone will have to go with him, of course.’
‘Right. So…can you phone?’
‘As I said, I’ll do so tomorrow.’
Alice felt not happy but satisfied as they drove back towards Soalay and she thought that Ben felt the same way too. They had done right by Albert. They had acted as medical professionals. She only hoped that, if there was anything wrong, it wasn’t too late to put it right.
So she looked out of the window and smiled her pleasure. The Soalay landscape was part of her birthright. She had come back to reclaim it. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘there’s Ben Sleatan. Remember we climbed to the top of it? It was so hot when we got to the top and you…’ Then her voice trailed away. She was remembering.
She glanced sideways. Ben’s face was set. ‘I think I remember,’ he said. ‘Remember vaguely. But that was a long time ago.’
She knew he wasn’t telling the truth. He did remember. What had happened had been so wonderful, so important to them. And now he was frightened of what the memories might bring back.
It had been hot. They had climbed the mountain and they had been entirely alone—no one to be seen for miles. At the summit they had rested on a tiny patch of grass, he had taken off his T-shirt. ‘Now that feels better,’ he had said. Then he had looked at her, smiling but with a challenging look in his eye. So, daringly, she had taken off her own T-shirt. It had felt strangely liberating. And when he had kissed her, he had undone her simple cotton bra. Well, he had tried to. Not the easiest thing to do with one hand. So eventually she had helped him. She had felt so bold and so happy!
They had lain side by side, kissing. She had never felt anything so exciting as the touch of his skin on her bare breasts. But then he had moved a little and kissed her there…
Alice put the memory from her and sighed. She could guess what was going through h
is mind now. He was frightened of getting too close to her, of bringing out the kind of feelings that had caused him so much pain. The kind of feelings that he’d had for his wife. And she couldn’t blame him. In her turn she was frightened of getting close to him.
She liked his company, which made it hard living with him. She was still fearful of what her feelings could cost her. And what about her vows of treating this place as a man-free sanctuary for a year, of having nothing to do with men? Perhaps, too, she was getting too fond of Fiona. Ben and Fiona were a definite package.
She decided not to think further about things, let Ben make any decisions about their relationship. But Ben didn’t seem to want to move on from the state they were in now.
And did she? Well, she could be tempted.
CHAPTER SIX
SO THIS was it and she liked it. Home. Well, home at least for a year. When she had parted from Sean she had promptly moved out of the flat they had shared and into a rented room offered by the hospital. It had been pleasant enough but not really somewhere to call home. For too long she had needed a place where she felt she belonged. She needed a home and this was nearly it.
She had just moved into the flat above her clinic. Her three trunks had been delivered, she had been living out of a suitcase for too long. Her clothes were now in the built-in wardrobe, her books were on the shelves, there were pictures on the wall. She had even paid a visit to the new supermarket and stocked up her larder.
She was hot and pleasantly weary. It was early evening now and she decided that what she needed was a bath and a cup of tea. But first she wandered around her new domain, thinking how much larger it looked now that there was no builders’ clutter.
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